


Sentiment and Secrets

by GammaRays



Series: Sentiment and Understanding [3]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Adult Ciel Phantomhive, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gore, M/M, Melancholy, Psychological Torture, Torture, that's like my default settings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 20:46:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15693075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GammaRays/pseuds/GammaRays
Summary: The more Ciel lies and hides from both himself and Sebastian, the more his own mind turns against him, blurring lines between nightmares and reality. Knowing that only facing the truth will bring him peace, he has to decide what he fears more - losing his sanity, or exposing himself to a possible rejection.(Set in mySentiment and Understandingverse but can be read on its own).





	Sentiment and Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Second installment of my 'missing scenes' from Sentiment and Understanding fic, because I clearly cannot leave these two in this setting and story alone. Quick overview for those who didn't read SaU but wanna give this a go: after several 'unfortunate events' Ciel abandons his revenge and London, but Sebastian lets him live for longer than he expected. Through Ciel's twenties, the two live from day to day, without any real plans, spending their time traveling. 
> 
> Some music to go with it:  
> [ Kaleo - Vor í Vaglaskógi ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Da5qQD_RpEQ) (this song will be my undoing)  
> [ Tom Odell - Can't Pretend](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B4-OxOmsqR0)

There were so many things I couldn’t tell him.

The returning nightmares were one of them. Sometimes I wondered; was I a hypocrite after ordering him to never lie, and then waking up in cold sweat, shaking, and answering his questions that yes, I was perfectly fine, and no, I did not remember what my night terrors were about – in fact, I don’t even think I had any? I would get up on shaky legs, claiming they were numb after my nap and not buckling under the weight of images that plagued my mind even though I was no longer sleeping. Every scream. Every touch. Every word. Every ache. Every futile _plea_.

And I could never tell him it was _him_.

Could he smell the lies on me?

The puzzling thing was that I didn’t really understand what caused them – the nightmares from my trauma after the cultists left me completely early on in our travels; now, a few years later in my late twenties, they returned. I had a theory or two; none of them solid or fully sensible. There were things I wanted to repress, feelings I wanted to hide, being too ashamed to touch on them even in the privacy of my own mind. When I was still a little boy, sickly but happy and not alone, my mother once told me to be true to my emotions; to not hide from my own self, because the things I’ll try to bury will come back some day in uglier ways and haunt me till I’ll be forced to face them – ready or not.

It didn’t seem convincing – what I saw him as in my mind in my waking hours didn’t match what I saw him as in my night terrors in the slightest. Were they my subconscious fears? Were these the ‘uglier ways’? No, it wasn’t anything convincing at all – but it was the best lead I had.

Not that it mattered. The ‘why’ didn’t make a difference; not when I shot up in our bed in the middle of the night gasping for air, my skin still crawling with phantom soot and oil and liquid coal I’ve been drowning in. It always took me a few moments to get my bearings; sometimes I was lucky enough and Sebastian wasn’t there when I woke up – busy with other tasks, as if he was still a butler. While I secretly mourned at his cold absence and wanting nothing else than for _him_ to comfort me, I didn’t want to make myself look even more pathetic in his eyes – a grown man paralysed with fear by something that’s not even real. Not as if made a difference, either – he always returned just a few moments later, sensing my distress.

What was probably most terrifying was the fact that no dream was the same. Somehow, my mind came up with new, brilliant ways to torture itself every time.

One night, he tore me apart. Quite literally. He had me stripped and chained by my arms to the ceiling, not letting the tips of my toes reach the ground – just as he was that time when I became a cult sacrifice for the second time. I didn’t remember what led to it, what made him do it – it was a nightmare after all, senseless like most dreams. All I knew was the searing, blinding pain as he tore his claws into me and began skinning me alive. The sensations of him cutting a shape into my skin and then _pulling_ , slowly but surely, until my flesh gave way, parted, and came away in his hand. In the first seconds, I could see the pale yellowish layer of fat of varying thickness, depending where he tore it from. Then, the wound swelled up and overflowed with blood as more and more vessels broke. It filled his hands, flowed under his bare arm to his elbow. It spilled down my body too; I could feel it running in thick, heavy rivulets and drip from my toes. Once one chunk came loose, he dropped it to the floor where it fell with a wet slapping sound. Sometimes, he took a bite of a piece he ripped off, making a show of sinking his fangs into the soft layer of fat and piercing through the tougher outer layer of skin. He chewed it slowly, grinding it with his teeth, making the pieces dance on his sharp tongue as more blood ran down his chin. And then he moved onto the next piece. And another. I gave up on begging for mercy pretty quickly – I don’t think he even heard my cries. He tore pieces of me until I was considerably lighter, and the metal cuffs bit less into my wrists, which he spared. He tore until I could nudge a pile of cold, wet slices of skin on the floor with my weakly struggling feet. He tore until I was an exposed nerve; even the briefest movement of air against my raw muscle causing me agony – although at this stage, pain was something abstract; something I registered, but didn’t feel fully anymore. My screams were like a silent echo, or like something screamed underwater. When he leaned in once, he ran his claw over my gums as I had no lips anymore, and hissed cruelly in my ear – that was miraculously left intact. _Young Master seems to have a little_ scratch _here and there. But his body is so prone to infection… Shall we disinfect it?_ My screams grew loud in my own ears once more as the smell of alcohol filled the air and my exposed flesh all but _sizzled_ under the onslaught of the merciless solution. Once the shocks subsided, he brought a bottle to my mouth and forced me to drink what was inside. The smell was strong and initially surprisingly pleasant, but it quickly made me light-headed. The taste made me retch. Without lips, it was difficult to drink, and a lot of it ran down my chin and chest. The last thing he did was lighting a match. And then I understood. With a too-wide grin he brought it to my chest; the delicate flame licked at it once before spreading onto my entire upper body and setting it ablaze. I howled in agony, but also relief – it would finally be over. As I screamed, Sebastian dropped the burning match down my throat, and I became a living fire.

When I woke and was served warm, crunchy toast with soft, melted cheese, I excused myself to the bathroom where I vomited profusely, half-expecting to see charred flesh.

Other times those dreams were… less extreme. But no less terrifying. I dreamt of hell, once. At least that’s what it felt like. There was nothing. It was emptiness. It wasn’t black, it wasn’t white – it was utterly colourless. Silent. There wasn’t anything to occupy my mind with as it slowly spiralled into madness. There was only the ever-present and all-encompassing sensation of _his_ presence. I didn’t know how, but I felt it. And that was it. Nothing else, for all eternity. When I woke _that_ time, I was no less distressed from the time when he tore me to shreds.

 

 

Sometimes, I was wary of him. The thought that he was behind all this, that he was the one turning my dreams sour, crossed my mind a few times. And yet, I found myself doubting that once I saw his exasperation, his confusion, his frustration; and something that looked like _concern_ , almost. He could play, of course. The demon was a brilliant actor, so perhaps it was just foolish wishful thinking on my part.

I hoped it would go away on its own. It didn’t.   

It went on for just a couple of weeks until Sebastian decided we should continue with our travels, move somewhere else again. Maybe this place just had a bad effect on me, he said. I was desperate to believe that, even though I wasn’t convinced in the slightest. As usual, he let me decide where to go next and I, despite his perfectly logical arguments about my overall fragile health, was stubborn about seeing a real _Russian_ winter. How cold could one be on a train anyway?

With this reasoning – and confidence that should anything go wrong, Sebastian would bring me to a place of warmth and safety in a blink of an eye – we began our long, several-day train journey across the seemingly boundless plains of white. It was beyond beautiful, and I was mesmerised by the sights I could never witness in England. Initially I was worried – as usual – that the demon would be bored, restless. Sitting on a train for days on end? Certainly not his entertainment of choice. But once I immersed myself in a book, he did so too. As I flicked my eyes up to him briefly now and again – discreetly, I hoped – I didn’t see any excessive anger or displeasure.

Another reason why I _really_ wanted to get on that train was the hope that the uncomfortable beds and constant swaying of the train would prevent me from falling asleep properly and for several hours at a time. I naively hoped that by waking up constantly, no nightmare could get a strong enough grip on me.

The first night on the train, just as any other evening for the past few weeks, brought with it worry and uneasiness. I didn’t really want to make a scene on the train. Still, we settled for sleep in our cabin like any two normal people would, Sebastian taking the top bunk bed. As I snuggled under the covers of my own, I was both relieved and disappointed to find it relatively comfortable. What was worse, the endless movements were actually lulling me to sleep, rather than keeping me from it. So, I fought valiantly, making a conscious effort to not doze off for as long as possible – even though I knew it was silly, and that sleep would claim me in the end.

When I turned away from the wall one time I almost jumped out of my skin to see Sebastian’s face hanging over the edge of his bed watching me, as if he were a bat, hair flopping around his ears. The demon must have sensed I was still awake. As the initial shock subsided, I couldn’t help but huff a brief laughter, thinking how ridiculous he must have looked to an outside observer, should one be passing by.

‘Can’t sleep, Master?’

‘Kind of. Yeah.’

He blinked once, as a small smile slowly spread on his lips. ‘Would Young Master like some company?’

I opened my mouth to refuse on autopilot, but decided against it. Being cramped in that tiny single bed with him was a sure-fire way to stay awake. Despite the apprehension about his possibly ulterior motives and not in the mood in the slightest for any indecencies, I agreed. ‘Yeah, okay.’

His smile turned to a grin for the briefest second before he slid from his bed to mine in one quick fluid motion. My breath got knocked out of me as he embraced me in the tight space, wrapping all of my body in his. In the first moments I was tense, a _request_ to not try anything _funny_ on the tip of my tongue. But when nothing happened and the demon didn’t move, I relaxed completely in his hold. Safe, as always. He then got me to talk about the historical novel I was reading earlier – not something I expected, but an easy bedtime topic nonetheless. I then asked him about his own book. Truthfully, I didn’t really pay too much attention to his words; all I wanted was to hear his calm soothing voice as he held me in that warm embrace and the train rocked us gently. It was _paradise_. How ironic. When sleep took over that time, I didn’t fight it.

When I woke the following morning still wrapped securely in Sebastian’s arms and with his lips on my forehead, I had no recollection of any nightmares.

Even though I slept _well_ , I haven’t slept _enough_. Still, I get up because of Sebastian’s _nagging_ , claiming I need food. I was completely ready and prepared to make puppy eyes at him to have my way and let me stay in bed for just a few more minutes, but my stomach growled loudly at the mention of breakfast, leaving the demon to smirk in victory. Some things never changed, I supposed.

We made our way to the dining area where I ordered the supposedly infamous chebureki, while Sebastian opted for a black coffee – it was with a surprise a few years back that he discovered he actually could enjoy the taste of the beverage. As we sat there, me slowly chewing on my food and him taking small sips of his drink, I was grateful for the very sporadic conversations – the demon always knew how to read my mood. Sometimes he liked to push and tease me, as he always did, but he gave up on trying to do that when I happened to be snappy in the morning from lack of sleep. After breakfast, we took a stroll through the rest of the train, but there wasn’t really much to see. We did pass one cabin where two men were making out quite noisily on their top bunk bed – I had half a mind to knock on the little window and somehow mime to them to keep it down, but I figured that if they were that stupid, they’d be found out at some stage anyway.

Back in our cabin we played chess for a while, then went back to our books. The landscape outside turned from pure white plains to a few more trees here and there, the variation making for an even more gorgeous scenery. Soon I found myself abandoning my novel in favour of appreciating the view, and ultimately, struggling against my eyes closing. A nap was definitely in order, but once more, I was wary of the nightmares that may come. I had to get up and wake myself up. Leaving the book on my seat, that’s what I did.

‘I’m gonna head over and see if they have any cake, I’ll be back in a few.’

The brief cold glare that the demon gave me as his eyes flicked momentarily from his text was like ice down my back, making me shudder. As I made my way through the corridors, I wondered if he got irritated for disturbing his reading, or if he was reprimanding me for chasing after confectionary so early after breakfast. As if I was still a child and he was my butler. I was unnerved by that look, but decided to hope I was simply seeing things in my sleepy state.

It was my lucky day though, and I was happy to find what I was looking for. Not understanding any of the labels nor speaking a lick of Russian, I ended up pointing at a slice of some pie with whipped cream and what looked like caramel sauce. With hand-gestures, I managed to ask for two forks – just in case – and a cup of coffee for Sebastian, and to pay the correct amount, although the large, intimidating woman behind the counter clearly wasn’t happy with such a primitive form of communication.

Balancing the pastry in one hand and the saucer with the coffee in another, I made my way back to our cabin, sliding the door open with my foot. ‘’m back. Bingo, they had sweets. I bought you a coffee, too-’

He was in front of me in an instant, the speed of his movements inhuman, fixing me with that pointed, angry glare once more.

I frowned at him in reply, refusing to be intimidated. ‘Oi, Se-’

‘What do you think you’re doing.’ He growled, cutting me off. ‘What do you think this is? You think we’re playing house here, Phantomhive? Or posing as some couple? Why didn’t you just take _one_ fork, don’t you wanna feed me that gross mush like some lovesick lass as we hold hands?’ His voice grew louder, sneering. ‘You’re so _pathetic_. You owe me your soul; I’m a _demon_ , not your fucking nanny.’ With these words, he shoved me, pushing me out of the threshold of our cabin and making me hit the window in the corridor. Through the sheer shock I barely registered the sound of the plate and cup shattering on the floor, or the burn of the scalding coffee on my chest. I dumbly stared at the whipped cream smeared on my clothes. I didn’t shield my face as his hand came across it.

He _slapped_ me.

Somehow that was more painful than the burn.

Within an instant, tears welled up in my eyes but I forced myself to blink them away quickly. I regained my bearings as he grabbed me by the lapels of my grey coat. ‘Sebastian!’ Shouting in his face I tried to pry his hands from me. ‘What has gotten into you?! What’s the meaning of this?! Unhand me this instant!’

His eyes shone like fresh blood as he hissed. ‘I don’t know why I bothered with you for so long. I’d have had more fun on a contract with your dull, screeching fiancée. Too bad she’s dead because of you.’

Before I had a chance to lash out at and hit him myself, he pulled the window behind me open and, still holding onto my coat, he forced my head out of it. I gasped in horror as icy wind whipped across my face and I gripped his clenched fists tighter. He pushed me out further. The window edge dug painfully into my back. The poles along the train tracks that passed every few metres in a blur grew closer. ‘Sebastian!’ I tried to kick out at him, but at the same time I was scared he would let me go and fall. ‘Stop it, put me down! That’s an _order_!’

I could barely hear him through the wind in my ears. ‘Don’t make a fool of yourself. I’m done taking your orders, Phantomhive. Your games grew boring long ago.’ With that, he pushed more, enough for me to meet the next pole head-on.

My whole body jolted with a violent gasp, my head surprisingly still in its place.

‘Young Master?’ I gave an embarrassing yelp at the sound of the demon’s voice before realising he wasn’t, in fact, pushing me out of the train. I was in my bunk bed, under the covers, coat and shoes off. ‘Are you alright? Is something the matter?’

‘Wha…?’ I huffed breathlessly. Of course I wasn’t alright! He just tried to-?! ‘What’s going o-on?’

The demon squinted in confusion. ‘Hm? You fell asleep while reading, so I put you to bed. You clearly needed a nap after not sleeping for half of the night.’ He paused, tilting his head. ‘Did you have a nightmare?’

It was only now that I realised it. _Oh_.

Still, it took me a while to calm my hammering heart and fully realise that the demon whom I trusted so fully and so foolishly didn’t just try to kill me; that he didn’t actually say all of those horrid things. ‘N-no. No. I just didn’t remember falling asleep and got a little confused, that’s all.’ I ran my hand through my hair and fixed my eyepatch, feigning calmness.  

‘I see, I’m relieved. Though you seem a bit flushed. Would you like me to open the window a little and let some fresh air i-’

‘No!’ I shouted before I could stop myself. Sebastian gave me a puzzled look. ‘No, don’t open the window, I… Look, are you crazy? It’s freezing out there; I’d get pneumonia just by sticking one finger outside.’

‘Very well, I suppose you are right.’ He smirked.

Without another word, I turned to the wall and pretended to go back to sleep, even though I didn’t dare close my eyes again.

 

 

We stayed on the train for another day. We paused our journey in a quite sizeable, snow-covered town and checked into a hotel for a while using money that Sebastian literally just pulled out of thin air, I assumed.

The first night was terror-free, thankfully. But it was the only one. In the next three consecutive nights, I woke up covered in cold sweat and panting, though I did not exactly remember what haunted me those times. As this madness continued, I grew warier of Sebastian with every day – not because of what he did to me in those dreams, but because I was sure that he was growing to hate me for my weakness, just as I did myself. He _had_ to have started getting bored, even if because of the mere fact that I wordlessly denied him sex. He stopped trying to initiate anything in the first place very quickly after the nightmares came back. In my most naïve moments, I could have fooled myself that it was an expression of understanding, of care – that he was giving me space, and not pushing me into anything I wasn’t in the mood for. But I knew this wasn’t the case, this wasn’t real. Soon enough, his patience would snap and end – after all, sinful, carnal pleasure was one of the main reasons he stayed and kept me alive. It had to be.

And yet, no matter how worked up I made myself, he gave me no proof of his supposedly concealed fury. If anything, his eyes were full of mirth as he took in the sight of me, after wrapping me in a thick coat, warm hat, and covering half of my face in a metre-long scarf every time before we went outside. I didn’t see any clenched fists or flashing red when we would take a stroll through the market and he’d think I would be too preoccupied with inspecting confectionary stalls to notice. Sebastian was just being Sebastian.

But my subconscious clearly could not accept that. The day following the third nightmare, I was so worn out I started getting ready for bed before it was even fully dark outside.

‘Ah, are you going to sleep already, lordling?’ His question made me frown with dismay as I fluffed my pillow, under the covers and in my nightshirt – my intentions were quite clear, I thought. ‘That’s quite early, even for you.’

‘I don’t wanna hear this from a devil who doesn’t even need to sleep to stay alive like I do.’ I only realised how bratty I sounded once the words left my mouth. But was it any wonder, after having no decent rest for weeks now? Exhaustion was getting to me – again – but for once I didn’t have the mind or strength to fight against it. No matter the nightmares that surely lay ahead, I just wanted a moment of sweet, sweet slumber.

Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed beside me as I squirmed, delighted, under the cool duvet, trying to find the right position and already feeling pleasant heaviness settling into my bones. I was only a step away from drifting off…

‘Your sleeping pattern is rather hectic, my lord, and yet you claim you’re fine. Perhaps we should visit a physician?’

Gritting my teeth, I held myself back from lashing out at him. Being too exhausted, I had no energy to decipher his tone of voice or facial expression to decide whether he was being honest or if he was mocking me, so I just took his words at face value, as they were. ‘I’m fine. I just need to sleep, so just- leave me be for now.’

He didn’t give up, for whatever reason – he only shuffled closer, leaning over me, his hands in my pillow on both sides of my head, caging me in. ‘But I _insist_. If you fall asleep now, you’ll wake up in the middle of the night again, and end up napping during the day, and then where will we be?’ I was too tired to even get properly angry at his behaviour and the smirk on his face, but oh, how I wanted to wipe if from there with a slap.

‘I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m done with this conversation.’ I mumbled, attempting to turn on my side ostentatiously to let him know I wasn’t up for any games he was playing.

I didn’t even get to settle before his hand firmly gripped my shoulder and flipped me on my back again. Irritation started to tear me out of my cosy, sleepy state. ‘Ah, little one, entertain me for a little longer.’

‘ _Excuse_ me?’ I shot him an accusatory glare. ‘What is _that_ supposed to mean?’

‘Don’t you think I deserve at least this much? With you dragging me back and forth across this bleak earth of which every stone I’ve seen thousands of times before… It is quite dull for me, you know.’

Ready to argue, I ended up only gaping at him, wordless. What could I say? He was _right_. In the back of my mind, I knew this day would come – when this simple existence beside his human _snack_ would bore him; when he’d get tired of me. God, he was _right_. What could I do?

The pain in my shoulder broke that train of thought. The demon’s grip was tightening, and it was starting to really ache. ‘Seba- Wait, Sebastian, that- Let me go-’ I tried to shrug him off but to no avail. Alarm started to properly wake me up.

‘Come on, _boy_. Just give me what I want. It’s only fair, don’t you think?’ His voice became lower. Darker. Breathy. His slit pupils dilated. A quiet whimper just about escaped my lips as he moved to fully rest above me on the bed, his knees at my hips. _Trapped_. I brought my hands to my chest as if ready to protect myself, as my clouded mind uselessly tried to somehow come up with a way of escaping this predicament. A clothed knee rubbed the outer side of my own bare thigh. ‘Besides, it’s not as if you don’t enjoy it yourself.’

Everything was falling to pieces, and I tried to catch them but with as much success as one would have when grasping water. After I grew fond of his touch, would he now ruin everything and make me hate the very sight of him? I couldn’t have that; I couldn’t lose the one source of comfort I had. I couldn’t let him destroy himself in my eyes. I tried to _pacify_ him. ‘Y-yeah, but- Just, not today? I’m… I’m _so_ , so tired. Tomorrow… okay? We can do anything you want tomorrow.’

But he only smiled at me in response; a wide grin slowly splitting his face, his mouth full of too many sharp fangs. ‘But after a bit of _relaxation_ , you’ll sleep even better, wouldn’t you say?’ He drawled as one of his legs pressed itself between my thighs.

With a choked gasp and a racing heart I realised I will not be able to convince him. Still I tried, with desperate whispers, though I knew they’d fall on deaf ears in the mid-darkness of the room. ‘Please, _no_ , Sebastian. Not tonight. Just not tonight. I… I really don’t want to.’

This was getting me nowhere. He brought his knee up to press and rub against my crotch, making a pitiful sob tear out of my chest. I felt sick. ‘Are you sure? You’re warming up so nicely; isn’t it a pleasant feeling?’ He brought one of his gloved hands to my thigh as if to feel the temperature of my skin and prove his point.

This was useless. I wouldn’t convince him. He wouldn’t _listen_. But I had to stop him; his touch couldn’t become tainted like this. Not _his_. But the last thing I wanted to do is to outright defy him – I knew it would be even less productive than pleading, or perhaps it would even have the opposite effect, stirring him up further, but it was the last line of defence I had. And so I started to struggle.

First I tried to wriggle out from under him sideways, as one of his hands was occupied between my legs – this didn’t get me far; his hand shot up to pin me back in place as he growled, before returning to its ministrations. I tried again, frenzy and desperation growing. Nothing. He kept me in place. Grabbing one of my hands, he pinned it by my head. My tiny, childish wrist looked so breakable in his hold. His other hand brought my shirt up to my chest, exposing me entirely. Thick fear clogged my lungs and made it difficult to breathe, even though terror made me heave and sent my heart into a panicked frenzy. 

It was a battle lost from the start.

Just as my fingers were turning cold, his hand moved back to my shoulder and his mouth latched onto my neck. I could feel his jaw moving slowly, sinfully, as he licked and sucked and bit. There were so many times when I welcomed and loved it, but now I could only sob with helplessness, anger, frustration, and fear. I began to trash about in earnest. My small, thin legs kicked out underneath him and bunched up the sheets, but to Sebastian, it probably only felt like little twigs brushing against his thighs. My head turned from side to side, and my arms tried to slap him, push him away. He only laughed at me; a dark and merciless sound right by my ear.

Flailing limbs. Yelps and hisses and ragged gasps of struggle. The heavy weight of the hot air between us. Rustling of sheets and clothes. The digging of his Phantomhive butler pin into my palm as I pushed against his chest. His cruel laughter-

The pin?  

 _No_. This didn’t make sense. Sebastian wasn’t my butler anymore. He didn’t wear the suit, nor the gloves, nor the pin. My wrists or legs no longer were that of a child. This couldn’t be real.

This _wasn’t_ real. I was dreaming again.

How was I going to wake up?

To my utter despair, consciousness didn’t seem anywhere near despite the realisation – I could only keep trying to get him off of me, more with the hopes of shaking myself awake rather than actually escaping Sebastian’s assault. But then his hand tightened around my throat – perhaps that would wake me up first? This thought didn’t stop me from struggling. What if it was real after all? It _felt_ so real.

Everything became dark. Was it the soot lifting off of him, or was it my vision fading? I clawed at his face. But he only kept laughing maniacally. He didn’t stop. Not when my nails tore through the skin of his cheeks. Not when they scraped through it, leaving deep and dark gashes as if his flesh was nothing more but warm clay. Not when I peeled off most of his face, the meat getting stuck under my nails like dirt and most of it splattering on my own face and chest like melting butter. Not when he didn’t look human anymore. There were no more lids around his blazing red eyes when I reached for one of them and dug it out. The demon howled an even louder laugh that rang in my ears as I opened my palm and my own purple marked eye stared at me. I felt blood gush out of my right eye socket.

My scream was louder than the demon’s laughter as I finally managed to leap out of bed. I wailed and howled and screamed, blind and deaf to anything around me until I ran out of breath. Slowly, gradually, coming to my senses, I brought a hand to my face only to feel both of my eyes there. There was no blood. There were no bits of meat. Reluctantly opening my eyes to face reality, there I saw him. From my spot in the corner of the room by the window where my feet carried me in my escape from nothing but my own mind, I watched Sebastian like a spooked, wild animal, as he stood by the bed, eyes wide, and hair and nightclothes ruffled from sleep which by now he regularly indulged in alongside me.

I heaved, on the verge of a panic or an asthma attack – or maybe both. There was no single calm or rational thought in my mind when I pointed a shaky finger at him in accusation. ‘Y-you! It-! It’s you, isn’t it! You’re doing- you’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you?! Those nightmares, those horrid nightmares… It’s your fault, isn’t it?!’

His eyebrows dropped, and his expression became its usual, neutral, passive self once more. Only momentarily understanding lit up in his eyes. He started to walk towards me slowly, silently.

‘Don’t touch me! Don’t-! Don’t touch me!’

That made him falter. For a second, something like _hurt_ flashed across his face, but I couldn’t be sure. He held up his arms, but continued to approach me. ‘Are you suggesting I’m _purposefully_ turning your dreams sour, my Lord? Putting nightmares in your head?’ His voice was light, but there were no emotions I could decipher from it. If there were any to begin with.

I shook on my feet, pitifully cowering a little in my corner but put up a façade of anger. ‘You’re a demon, don’t tell me you can’t do that!’

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully where he stood in front of me and slowly lowered his hands. I lifted my own on instinct. ‘It would not be impossible, but do tell me; why such a rather outrageous assumption?’

‘You- It’s all gotten dull for you, didn’t it. You’re bored… It’s… only fair.’ My voice wavered as I threw ‘his’ words back at him.

The demon observed me with narrowed eyes and a tilted head. ‘May I remind you that even through our contract, I’m obliged to protect you, not hurt you-’

‘Screw the contract! You have no obligations to me after I broke it! Even if you told me you didn’t do it, you could be lying! The goddamn contract-!’

‘Young Master-’

‘I said don’t _touch_ me!’ I pressed myself into the wall when he reached out to me again.

With a sigh, he dropped his hand again. ‘Very well, I shall not. But you should realise you’re being unreasonable, young Lord. Please; sit back down and I’ll bring you some tea to ease your nerves.’ I only stared at him, hesitant and suspicious. ‘I will not touch you.’

With a final look he turned around and left the room, which made it somewhat easier to breathe. Momentarily, I considered being the stubborn brat I was years ago and staying in my spot, but that would be ridiculous and stupid – I was an adult. Besides, there was no point, and I was no less exhausted than I was in my nightmare. I dragged my feet towards the bed and sat on the edge of it. Now that the haze of anger and panic was easing and leaving dark sadness in its wake, I started to truly realise the stupid tantrum I was throwing. Sebastian was a demon, but that didn’t mean he would intentionally cause me anguish; not after all this years, and not after being the source of comfort after the night terrors I had as a child. He wouldn’t do it. Or would he? Did I know him at all? Whatever the case was, one thing was true; he had no obligations towards me. My head was starting to hurt from the conflict between the righteousness of my accusation, and the guilt for making such assumptions. What was true? Which one was right? I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling cold and alone. Helpless. Pathetic.

‘Your tea, young Master.’

Startled out of my thoughts, I jumped up at his voice and the bed dipping behind me. Turning around I saw him sitting on the other side of the bed, leaning forward on one hand and holding a saucer with a steaming cup towards me with the other. He fixed me with a focused gaze. Taking it from him with a small nod of thanks, I took it from him. It turned out to be the vanilla-flavoured green tea with honey that I recently became fond of. Ear-ringing silence settled in the room for a while as I drank and tried to ignore the intense stare burning into my back. ‘Just say what you want to say.’ I mumbled, putting the empty cup on the nightstand and bringing my knees to my chest, without turning around to face the demon.

‘You lied.’ Well, he certainly didn’t beat around the bush. ‘About not having nightmares.’

It’s not as if he didn’t know it, but only now he caught me red-handed and could call me out on it. ‘I did.’

‘Why?’

‘I- You didn’t need to know.’

‘I didn’t need to know? You’re barely functioning.’ He sounded almost offended.

‘So what?’ I spat. ‘It doesn’t mean I had to tell you.’

‘Perhaps if you’d talk about what haunts you, you’d deal with it bet-’

‘How could I just go and tell you if they were all of you?!’ That was it. The damage was done. The words spoken could not be taken back. ‘They were all of you…’

Silence settled over us once more. I wanted him to say something, anything – just to at least give me an illusion that he wasn’t utterly indifferent to my suffering. But the stillness went on. For a moment I was convinced that he lost any interest he had in the conversation, or maybe that he even left soundlessly, disappointed at my weakness. But the bed was still dipped, and I could still feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. Perhaps it wasn’t disinterest. Perhaps it was his invitation for me to speak; to spill my woes to him.

And I was pathetic. So I did. ‘You… had no mercy. What you did to me- You… _tortured_ me. You cut me open, skinned me alive, choked me. Gauged out my eyes. Tore out my tongue. Set me on fire.’ I spoke with my back to the demon, without the courage to face him. ‘It always felt so real, I never realised I was dreaming. I begged you every time. Ordered you to stop. I think I even threatened you, but I don’t remember, and I can’t imagine with what. But… you never listened. I suppose you just… got bored of it all.’ There it was. My biggest fear.

‘And yet, tonight was different.’ His voice was soft. ‘You haven’t screamed yourself awake with that much panic before.’

Second worst fear. _I might as well just tell him_ – I was uncovering myself completely that night. ‘You- You f… you forced. Yourself… on me.’ Pathetic. Disgusting. Appallingly weak. The need to tear into my own skin as I heard my voice waver was almost overwhelming. My fingers clenched and unclenched, scratching erratically into my arm. Although there was something stronger than my self-hatred in that moment; fear, and desperation to be comforted. To make it all go away. I turned around just slightly but didn’t dare to look at him over my shoulder for more than a split second when I spoke so quietly it was barely audible. ‘S-Sebastian. You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t actually do it, would you?’

In that briefest of moments that our eyes met, I saw something that looked suspiciously like raw emotion spark in his. Raw, but _dark_. And that was all I saw. That was all I _ever_ saw; how rare were the times when his passive expression was disturbed – my best and only guess most of the time was to observe the change in his eyes. ‘For you to ask me such a thing… After all the years I’ve been by your side. Aside from that one blasted time when you _forced_ me into hurting you, have I ever touched you in an undesirable manner?’ My mouth went dry. ‘But if you’re not convinced – test me.’ His voice took on just a slightly challenging tone. ‘Seduce me, arouse me, till I’m blind with lust. And then, in the last moment, tell me _no_.’

I was ashamed. I knew perfectly well that Sebastian – based on his actions and not on the fact that he’s a demon – deserved the most trust in my life. ‘You’re right… I’m sorry, Sebastian.’

He sighed quietly, as if the whole situation was really weighing down on him. ‘You don’t need to be. I know it’s a fear of yours, but I hope one day you realise that there are limits that even a depraved being like me won’t cross. You could say it goes against my aesthetics.’

His words lifted my spirits somewhat. ‘But _humans_ do it all the time. So perhaps you’re not as depraved as you say?’

A strange shadow of an offended surprise made him almost _bristle_ , but he recovered quickly with a frown. ‘Careful, little one. Don’t dream too big. I’m still a soulless monster. But no matter. Do you have any ideas as to what caused those nightmares?’

His odd reaction stopped me from prying the topic of his nature further. Instead, I turned around to face him properly. ‘I… don’t really know.’ I lied. Although I did tell him, partially; about my fear of him getting bored of me, anyway. I couldn’t tell him about my suspicions of repressed feelings, or whatnot.

Somewhat agitated about lying again to a demon who could smell just about _anything_ on me, I absentmindedly started scratching my arm again, though I only realised it once I stopped as I saw his hand reach for my face. It almost looked like he wanted to brush my fringe away from my eyes, but then, just an inch away, he faltered. Stopped, and pulled away.

 _Don’t touch me_. Why did he always have to follow my orders? My skin ached, practically _crawled_ with my need to be held, comforted. ‘Should I leave for a while? If I’m the subject of your nightmares, perhaps it would be of benefit for me to disappear for a few days.’

‘No.’ I felt sick. ‘No. I- don’t think that will help.’

‘You can’t know that for certain.’

‘No, I know.’ I didn’t.

‘It’s still worth a try, is it not? To try and free you from those nightma-’

‘Just- _no_ , Sebastian. Don’t… leave me alone.’ I let out a loud, shaky sigh. ‘…alright?’

Being too embarrassed to look into his eyes, I had pretty much no idea of his reaction to my further pitiful confessions. ‘As you wish, Lord.’

Feeling the remnants of anxiety and tension seep out of me slowly, leaving me even more exhausted, I reached out to his hand, hooking a finger around one of his. I licked my dry lips. ‘Would you… hold me?’ Disgraceful, spoiled brat in an adult man’s body – have I even changed at all?

But there was no judgement on Sebastian’s face when he sat up cross-legged, facing me, and opened his arms. I pushed my shame aside as he pulled me into his lap as if I were still a small child – not that I’ve grown all that much over the years anyway. I melted into his secure embrace immediately, overwhelmed by relief of such intensity that it made my head throb as he held it against his chest. I could hear and feel his breath. His lungs expanding. Even though he didn’t need it, I appreciated the sentiment – the rhythmic undulations of his breast calmed me.

I only realised I was dozing off when he moved, putting me on high alert once more as I clung onto his arm. My chest constricted painfully. ‘S-Se… Don’t leave.’

‘I’m not going anywhere, little one. Let’s just get you back to sleep, you’re so exhausted.’ That was definitely something I wasn’t going to argue with, so I let him manoeuvre me like a ragdoll until I was back under the covers. ‘Sleep now, lordling. I’ll watch over you.’

There _had_ to be something ironic about such a promise coming from a demon.

 

 

But the nightmares did ease up. They didn’t stop altogether, but they lessened. I no longer woke up screaming or sweating in the middle of the night. All that was left was an uneasiness at the back of my mind in the morning, like a splinter buried deep, somewhere hidden, where I couldn’t see or get it out. But that meant that not only I could sleep more peacefully – it was also easier to hide it from Sebastian. As far as he knew, my night terrors stopped, and I wanted to keep him thinking that way, silently hoping that they would really eventually end.

Still, not remembering the contents of my horrors, it was easier to start functioning normally once again, though it took several days until I gathered up the courage to be intimate with Sebastian once more. What surprised me was the fact that it was me who had to initiate it – the demon was just waiting. Giving me time.

When I realised it, my heart throbbed and hurt with gratitude and other emotions I didn’t want to name. When he had me on top of him, letting me set the pace, I tried to not think too much about it for fear of my chest crumbling under the weight of the things I couldn’t tell him.

It was after one such tender evening when we laid, cleaned up but still feeling the remnants of bliss, that I couldn’t help but ask something that was so often on my mind. ‘What does my soul taste like?’

Initially, he didn’t react. It’s only after a few heartbeats that he sighed heavily with something like a smile on his face. ‘You’ll never let up, will you. Those questions about you dying, about me taking your soul…’

‘Can you blame my curiosity though?’ I propped my head on my arm as I turned on my side, watching him.

‘No. But don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat?’

‘And don’t you know that satisfaction brought him back?’ I grinned at him, and he smirked in reply. ‘Besides, of all the things that could kill me, I think this would be the last of them.’

He sighed once more before he spoke. ‘What exactly do you want to know? I told you that it’s not something you can translate to human taste. I’m not going to tell you your soul tastes like tender chicken breast.’

I rolled my eyes, groaning. ‘Obviously. Fine, let me rephrase; I want you to clarify something for me. I thought that what initially drew you to my soul was my suffering, my anger, and bitterness. I thought that’s what you wanted. But we both know that I’ve grown soft-’

‘You’ve grown soft because you just spent, my Lord.’

‘Oh for f-! Shut up!’ I shoved him, trying to be angry, but found that I couldn’t as he laughed. ‘Don’t interrupt me, you pervert. You obviously know what I meant. I grew soft _over the years_ , the darkness in me… subsiding. I’m not as full of hate as I was. Hell, I even abandoned my revenge. My soul must be disgustingly bland to you now. Dull. So I want to know… why did you let that happen? Why haven’t you killed me yet? Or did you realise now that you’ve made a mistake and are keeping me alive so that I can swell with hate again before you eat me?’ I threw the questions at him one by one, knowing that he won’t possibly answer them all, but hoping that with such an amount, the chance of him hearing one he was willing to answer increased.

‘Oh dear, oh dear. You surely let your curiosity grow, didn’t you...’

‘Don’t beat around the bush, Sebastian. You won’t sway me. I want some answers.’

He closed his eyes, as if contemplating whether to comply with my demands. ‘Fine.’ The demon didn’t look at me as he started to explain. ‘It is partially true that our kind is largely attracted to suffering and hatred and everything else you might call as _darkness_ of the human soul. Most of us crave it, though there are those who only chase after innocence, revelling in its taste, and the taste of that purity disappearing as they defile it just before consuming it. Personal preference, I suppose. But there is one taste that’s more addicting than both hatred and purity.’

He turned his eyes to me expectantly, as if for some reason I already knew the answer. ‘Do enlighten me.’

‘ _Change_. Although saying that change has a taste is probably incorrect. Think of it maybe as… smoking a food. To picture it… think of maybe smoked cheese or meat. You can’t _taste_ the smoke, but you can taste the effect it had one the food. This is a similar case; change has an effect on your entire soul, but the difference is that from a human soul, nothing can ever be fully erased. Every emotion that you ever felt is still there; so I can taste it with its flavour from both before and after the change. But what makes it so special is the fact that it is so, _so_ rare. Humans do not tend to change, but _you_ … you have changed _so_ much, my Lord. You say that you became weak and soft, but that’s not entirely true either. You’re still strong, but in different ways. When you were a child, your strength was like a fire; hot, bright, and temperamental. Erratic. You shouted orders left and right just because you could. Now that you’ve grown, it’s more of… a rock. Solid, stoic. You became wiser and more mature; you’ve learned of your limitations, that of both body and mind. Despite your weak body. Despite your nightmares. Despite losing everyone dear to you. Despite believing that I hold no regard for our contract and will turn against you one day, unexpectedly – you keep on waking up and living every day. I know that you feel _obliged_ to be the way you were before. To pretend to snap at the odd stranger who crosses you. To tell me to be rough when we’re in bed, even though I know that what really undoes you are gentle and soft kisses. You haven’t _weakened_ ; you changed and _matured_. Quite gracefully, I must say.’

My mouth grew dry, my eyes wide and unblinking. Never could I have expected such an honest, detailed answer to at least _some_ of my questions. As my shock started to wear off, I realised he was downright staring at me, his gaze boring into my face. I had to hide. I had to bring up my walls again, lest he saw more of my secrets, spilling like sloshing water. Lest I say more than I wanted. There was one obvious question left hanging in the air; why was I still breathing? He wanted the _change_ – but I wasn’t changing anymore. He could have had me _right then_ , already seasoned by change. So why didn’t he? I didn’t dare ask. I wasn’t sure if he would even answer. ‘That’s, uh…’ I cleared my throat, wetting my lips. ‘That was interesting. Thanks for telling me.’ I nodded, turning my eyes downcast, pretending to be _oh_ so unaffected, more interested by the corner of my pillow. Yeah, I was doing well. I just had to swallow it down, push down and hide the ache in my chest. Like always. It was fine.

But then he ruined me. He broke me with that gentle hand of his with which he tucked my hair behind my ear and brushed my cheek in a caress. I wanted to fall apart so that I wouldn’t tell him, but it was too late. The words were on the tip of my tongue. ‘Sebastian.’ I breathed, pain etched into my voice and no doubt my expression. ‘I want- I want you to know that I…’

But the words froze where they were, once I spared the quickest glance into his eyes that brought me back to reality. The red irises that never looked quite human even if they weren’t glowing. Of course; because _he_ wasn’t human. He was the devil, incapable of feeling, reciprocating, or even understanding the feeling that I almost confessed to him. What would he even have said? Would he have laughed at me? Ridiculed me? Demon and a human destined to be destroyed by him; what a pathetic feat.

‘I want you to know that I am grateful, for letting me live.’

He didn’t say anything, but I knew he was aware I hid something from him, that I wanted to say something else; he must have seen it in my eyes that flicked away, or in the hollow tone of my voice – he had always seen right through me. Did he know exactly what I wanted to say? Could he smell that pitiful feeling on me? Is this why he didn’t push? Did he want to spare me my dignity, prevent me from embarrassing myself? I wanted to scream; there were always more questions than answers with every single little thing he did, or didn’t do.

Still silently, he pulled me into his chest and we lay on our sides in a gentle embrace. My heart swelled with content at his touch, and yet it howled in agony and ache at the same time. But it was enough. It _had_ to be enough. This is all I could ever have. The unanswered question haunted me non-stop. _Why did he still keep me around?_ For my body, surely; that was the only semi-logical answer. He had my soul secured already; he didn’t need to work for it anymore and the flavour was just to his liking already. There were no more games or entertainment for him from this broken contract. The willingness and availability of my body every night now that the nightmares were gone was surely what kept him here; the moment he becomes bored of it, or I become ill and incapable of bringing him pleasure, he’ll end this. But while Sebastian only gives me access to his body, I’ve given him everything; first he claimed my soul, and then I gave up my heart, my mind, my body.

And this was fine. This was logical. Only a human would be so foolish. But by God, did I yearn and wish for more. And I knew that if Sebastian doesn’t soon, then it will be this yearning that will kill me.

‘Be calm, little one. It’s all fine. Sleep, now.’ Ah, of course; he could surely smell the anxiety and uneasiness, coming off of me sooty in waves. Was it as heavy and suffocating in his nose as it was in my veins?

There were times – especially when I was a child – that I despised him calling me that. Now, I cherished every time he did. It made me think that despite being small and weak and useless like all humans, he still held me in his arms. I was, indeed, a little one – _his_ little one. And if I tried hard enough, I could almost fool myself that those words were spoken with affection.

‘Sleep with me, then.’ I tried to calm myself if only to prevent him from asking questions, but I wasn’t getting anywhere so far. Getting Sebastian to fall asleep where his senses would be dulled would be my only saving grace.

Always obeying, he shifted onto his back but kept his arm looped around me, letting me use his chest as my pillow. Soon enough, he appeared to be asleep; his chest stilled, unnervingly, as if he no longer had the ability to keep up human appearances as he slept. He could have been fooling me, of course, but I chose to trust that he wouldn’t lie to me, even about something so trivial.

Oh, would I take this secret with me to the grave? Would I not have the privilege to share it? I gritted my teeth and turned away, lest a teardrop landed on his chest making him wake up. Though on one hand, I _wanted_ him to wake up, to ask me why I wept there in silence. Wanted him to force an explanation – the truth – out of me so that I could finally be relieved of this heavy burden and then blame _him_ for my weakness. But alas, he did not, and it was for the better in the long run, I knew. He remained in an ironically peaceful slumber as he did now every other night, looking so deceptively human and making me want to claw out this silly, clenching heart of mine right out of my chest. It was ridiculous. It was insane; abhorrently foolish and pathetic. I knew it and I hated myself for it. And so like a foolish and pathetic human, I gave up and surrendered to my foolish, pathetic emotions.

‘I love you, Sebastian. I lo- You’re my everything.’ I mouthed silently against his skin, brushing my lips in a delicate kiss beside his still, non-beating heart, vowing to myself to never consider uttering those bloody words again.

 

 

The nightmares stopped completely after that.

 

 

And I kept true to the vow I made to myself. I never told him, but by God, did I try to show him, though I never hoped or expected him to understand. It was only on my deathbed that I got my answers. We both did, that evening.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So Ciel had an easier time identifying his emotions than Seb did :c  
>  ~~It's odd because I've written so many and way more graphic non-con scenes before, and yet this one hurts me the most.~~
> 
> But thank you for reading, and for all the support for the previous two installment of this series as well! <3 
> 
> I'm also on [ tumblr ](http://fishnatu.tumblr.com/) if you wanna say hi ^-^)


End file.
